


Ghost

by tigs



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-09-15
Updated: 2006-09-15
Packaged: 2018-02-12 07:06:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2100153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tigs/pseuds/tigs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He stepped into the room and there Rodney was.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ghost

**Author's Note:**

> Friday domestic fluff. Unbeta'd. (And despite the title, everyone is still alive. I promise.)

He stepped into the room, and there Rodney was. Sitting on John's bed, his laptop on his knees, and John thought he could hear tinny music coming from its speakers, one of Rodney's beloved concertos, maybe, or the soundtrack to some movie. Whatever it was, though, it apparently wasn't important, because after a long moment Rodney flipped the laptop closed, lifted it off his knees, and slid it beneath John's bed. Still he sat there, though, his hands resting on his thighs, his fingers tapping rhythms out on his pants-covered legs, just like John stayed by the door, not moving, his back straight, his fingers wrapped tightly around the strap of his pack.

He wanted to say, 'Jeez, McKay. Way to give a guy a heart attack.' Or, 'So I take it you spent your summer vacation learning how to hack your way into my room?' Or possibly just 'Hey.'

He couldn't say, 'I missed you' or 'Did you know it's possible for a single bed to seem large?' He couldn't tell Rodney how, every night for the first two weeks he'd been back on Earth, he'd fallen asleep to the memory of Rodney's hands against his skin, large and warm on his chest, curved around his hip.

Or how he'd spent the remaining seven weeks *trying* to remember.

In the end, it was Rodney who broke the silence first, though. He said, "Well, Sheppard, it took you long enough."

The words were so normal, so *Rodney*, that John couldn't help but smile. Rodney didn't sound quite like himself, though. Oh, his voice was edged with annoyance, apparently at being made to wait—as if he hadn't been the one to skip out on meeting the Daedelus; as if John hadn't checked in at the labs, the dining hall, and Rodney's own rooms before coming here. He also sounded a bit restrained, though. And his eyes had yet to leave John, shifting from his face, to where his hand was curved around the strap of his bag, then back up again.

"Well, you know," John said. He could say, 'Things to do, people to see.' That would be the truth, because Elizabeth had cornered him pretty much immediately, wanting to give him the rundown of what had gone on since he'd left, and Caldwell had said it would take them awhile to unload the Daedelus, that John could come by and pick up his belongings later.

Instead, after a moment, he said, "I stopped by your room," and at that, at least, Rodney had the grace to look embarrassed. His gaze darted to the wall just beyond John, then back again. He said, "Yes. Well." Like that explained it all, and maybe, John thought, it did.

Then, *then* they were moving—John was never sure which one of them was first—but John dropped his pack on the floor and Rodney stood up from the bed and they met in the space between the two. For a moment, again, they just stood there, but then their arms were wrapped around each other, foreheads were coming to rest on shoulders, breath brushing against necks, and as one of Rodney's hands traveled down John's back to his hip, John sighed, letting go of tension that he hadn't even been aware he'd been holding onto, because this was warm, real. Completely unlike the ghosts of his memory.


End file.
